


Self Control

by ebonyfae



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Cutesy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, all around fluff, is this a coping mechanism for me? yes, my favorite himbo becomes baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29301087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonyfae/pseuds/ebonyfae
Summary: Tora hides behind a layer of swallowing his pride, but everyone has a breaking point.Sometimes that's okay.
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Self Control

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a fic in 4 years! I thought maybe picking up fic writing again could help me with some mental health issues so please enjoy!

My phone jolted me awake, ringing throughout the room. I shuffled amongst the weight of duvets. I felt heavy...I felt gooey.

I didn't feel alone.

I felt a shuffling, weighted figure moving among the sheets. My eyes fixed open on the dark, brown room and felt my heartbeat quicken and my throat close shut. I fumbled out of the bedding and landed on the floor. My feet thudded on the floorboards and I let out a yelp. My vision went blurry as I hazily looked around the room.

I knew it was not my room. I was near all the windows. I wasn’t sleepily slumped against the floor. There wasn’t a bat, a gun or constructed weapon near me.

Balthuman would kill me. Balthuman wouldn’t let me go back ‘home’ even if I didn’t want to. Maybe this time I wanted to go to the orphanage.

My head was spinning and I gripped at the edges of my scalp and thudded my head on the boarded floor. The vision slurred and my ears echoed a yelling so familiar to me before. I winced as tears welled up in my eyes. I’d never been this vulnerable before. I felt like Quincey.

_ God I don’t wanna be like his ass. _

“Hey!” A feminine voice squealed from the other side of the room. They shook me into consciousness. 

“Hey, ass–“ My eyes fluttered open, Bobby standing over me frantically, cradling my head. My face flushed red and coughed myself into correction.

“My bad, Pops.” I woozily apologized. My eyes darted their attention to the tears streaming down her face. Her breaths were quickly turning into sobbing hiccups.

“Tora! You had me so scared! You were sweating bullets!” she stuttered. She cupped her mouth in awe, like she just saw a ghost.

I sighed and shuffled my body to rest my head on the nearest wall. She quickly crawled over to me, her doe eyes worriedly staring at me.

“I know it’s a sensitive topic...but — do you know what happened Tora?” Poppy winced out.

I gave a confused grin and shrugged. I felt my ear-ringing still left in my ear.

I just knew I felt weak.

Poppy picked at her peachy-pink nails and bit her lip. “Well, when I was little —and the whole thing with my dad happened, I would panic sometimes. In class, in large gatherings, in my bedroom. I think you had a panic attack Tora.” She looked back at me for nervous confirmation. 

I never did the whole “mental health” thing. You don’t have much time to do self-care when your occupation is ‘dealing’ with a new threat every week. Unlike the people around me, there is no off button for me. 

I never thought I was in need.

Poppy pressed herself abruptly into me and scrambled backwards. She focused on my body tension and sighed. 

“I’m here. It’s okay.” she cooed. 

I pressed her into me, her ear close to my chest. I knew she could hear my heartbeat, just for her to know I was gonna be okay.

That I was recovering.

  
  


———

Bobby had not let me out of her apartment in hours. She teasingly jingled keys in front of my face before propping them up on top of the fridge.

I can reach them with no problem of course, but I’ll play along.

She brewed a sweet-smelling tea for me and placed the scarily small teacup in my open palm.

“I used stevia instead, I didn’t want you to get a sugar rush.” she cheerily replied, blowing softly into the porcelain.

It’s been the closest her lips had been to me in a while.

I was away, as Balthuman sent me on a trip with Quincey. I had one eye open all week. I could barely sleep without my hands lightly brushing near a weapon next to my bedside. 

Vincent made it clear relaxing was not for bodyguards.

I smiled weakly at her. She really is a hamster. Poppy swaddled me in blankets and a hot water bottle. I felt 12 again, and between my memories, I couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad feeling.

Pops put her hands on her hips and admired her work—that being me in this case. She grinned, but corrected her expression and sat next to me. “Are you fine with talking now?” she carefully asked. “I don’t wanna trigger you or anything like that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Pops chill out, Imma human being, not a gun.” I muttered. The joke didn’t catch on with Bobby though, she glared worriedly at me.

“Do you seriously know what happened?” she asked again. She gripped at my blanket anxiously.

I shrugged again. I was truly at a loss for words. Pops didn’t catch on though and fussed, reaching for my hand. It was scary how small her hand was sometimes.

“Do you know what it  _ felt _ like?”

My fingers fidgeted in her hand, playing with her fingernails. I never felt so shy, or emotionally aware, it felt like someone sucked my personality from within me.

“Well, all I can’t think of ‘s the room. Sleepin’ somewhere I’m not ‘posed to be every night. That I’m not on edge, that I’m not ready to bash someone’s head in. That my guard was down and anything could happen.” I saddeningly replied. That overwhelming, aggravating feeling was rising again. I wanted to punch a wall, or break a door.

I wanted to be so mad.

“As much as I wanna say  _ ‘there’s no problem with being relaxed’  _ I know the position you’re in.” She sighed, her eyes finally leaving my face. “I get it, there’s probably no way out. But if you need a break, come to me. Call me. I’ll drop anything, even if I’m like–climbing up 30 flights of stairs. I’ll be there. As long as this morning doesn’t happen again. I was scared for you, more than I’d ever been.” she continued.

The overwhelming feeling simmered and died, and it made its way into tears before escaping me. Poppy went erratic again and held my face. “I didn’t mean to make you cry! Shoot, I’m so sorry.” She cried. I used my whole palm to cover my face and used my other hand to push her face away.

“I’m not crying, I’m just allergic to hamsters.” I chuckled back at her, as she playfully punched me on my side.

  
  
  
  



End file.
